Hope Springs Eternal
by mistlove
Summary: Post-game. Rita and Flynn have gotten to know each other since Aurnion's been built. They've known each other for a month or so and haven't tried to kill each other yet. Maybe they will be good for each other. Pre Flynn/Rita.


**Title:** Hope Springs Eternal  
**Summary:** Rita and Flynn have gotten to know each other since Aurnion's been built. They've known each other for a month or so and haven't tried to kill each other yet. Maybe they will be good for each other. Pre Flynn/Rita.  
**Author:** mistlove  
**Copyrights:** Plot is mine. Everything else belongs to Namco Bandai.

* * *

Flynn wakes up to the sound of muffled rustling, of something familiar but dangerous in the dusky shade of night. Fingers grasping around the slim scabbard of his sword, he throws his covers off with the other hand.

"Don't bother," Rita's haughty voice warns. "I can blast you up to Tarqaron before you could get a swing in."

"Rita." He feels his whole body relax at her voice. He can feel her confident, mean-spirited aura before he looks up to see her short outline through the dark. He can't help but chuckle.

"What's so funny?" the mage demands waspishly. She steps closer.

Flynn's eyes are starting to adjust to the dark and he can just make out a curious frown on her handsome features. He runs his gaze quickly over the rest of her. She's outfitted in her battle mage uniform. He feels underdressed, wearing loose cotton pajamas.

"Nothing," the Commandant smiles. He sets his sword back down by his bedside and runs a hand through his ruffled hair absently. "I'm just glad to see you."

Rita raises a shapely eyebrow at him before shrugging and hugging her chest with arms. "At least you didn't use that opportunity for some ribald pick-up line like the old man."

Flynn flicks on the lamp light by his bedside. "Would you rather I had?" he asks, feeling bold enough to flirt a little.

He's rewarded with a taken-aback look on Rita's face, accompanied by the lightest tint of color to her cheeks.

"You idiot," she mutters, churlish as usual. "Just because you admire him doesn't mean you should imitate him." The look in her green eyes becomes sullen and dangerous. "It's not like his Schwann personality is so great anyway."

Flynn knows better than to debate that with Rita, who he's garnered really dislikes talking about Raven and his Schwann alter ego.

"What can I do for you, Miss Mordio?" he asks politely instead.

Rita stiffens at his formal tone, her already surly expression souring even more. She glares and jabs a finger at his face. "Don't call me that. Rita works fine." Belatedly, she adds in a shallow insult, "Flatterer."

She seems to have come to him in one of her worst moods, a peevish and cynical one. Fortunately, he's familiar enough with Rita to know how to deal with her in situations like this.

"Is this just a social visit?" he asks, tone neutral, but open just enough to be friendly. "Either way, I'll make some tea for us to drink and we can talk meanwhile."

Rita doesn't reply for a moment before she takes a seat onto a chair by the small table in the room. "This is cozy," she murmurs, but it's not at all condescending. It almost sounds envious even. "I thought you shared this little hut with that hot-headed lieutenant and that apple-head mage."

Flynn shrugs as he puts the kettle onto the stove and starts a fire beneath with some meager wood. "They decided it would be better if they moved their beds out to make room for a small kitchen and a little dining area to fit," he explains. "They live in the house next to Fortune's Market store."

"Huh. It suits you, you know," Rita pauses, struggling to search for the right word. She isn't the type to hand out compliments. "Snug. Nice and quaint."

"Thank you," Flynn replies. He turns to look at her, leaning back against the counter. "You're always welcome here, Rita." He looks at her, open and honest. He wants her to know he means it. "Aurnion could use an inventive genius like you for the long haul."

Rita smirks at him, all sharp curves in her lips. She tilts her head at him, eyebrow raised. "Trying to buy me, are you?" she sneers, folding her arms across her chest.

"Just trying to ask for your help," he replies amiably. Flynn wonders if she realizes that she's beautiful when she's so fiery. It makes her look more mature. "Like when I had first sought you out in Aspio for help with Shaikos Ruins."

"Oh yeah." Rita yawns and covers her mouth before stretching her arms out lazily. Now she looks younger, cuter. He forgets she's capable of taking down obscene amounts of monsters and soldiers by herself when she looks so innocent. "Yuri and his group showed up a little after that."

Curious, Flynn asks, "What did Yuri offer you that enticed you to follow him?"

Rita stares at him, looking taken aback and almost scandalized. "What are you impl—" She flushes darker, seeming to have realized something when she sees him staring confusedly at her. "Nothing!" she shouts suddenly, sounding defensive. The mage looks away, covering her face with a hand over her nose. "He just—He accused me of being a blastia thief," she mumbles. "So I went with him to clear my name. He didn't offer me anything." She looks at him sharply with a gaze that promises painful things if he doesn't understand her next words. "He didn't offer me or... _en-entice _me with anything!"

It hits him why she's suddenly so defensive. She must have taken his words the wrong way the first time. He smiles, feeling amused and emboldened by her embarrassment. "I still think I had more to offer, supposing Yuri did... _propose_you something," he murmurs. He pulls the kettle off the stove and pours out the tea.

Rita glares at him. "Are you suggesting something?" Her tone is vicious and warning.

Flynn sets down a cup of the steaming hot Amango tea in front of her and sits down across from her, playful mood vanishing for a more earnest atmosphere. He curves his fingers over her small hand before she can reach the cup.

"Wh-What!" Rita rips her hand away as though scalded by his touch. "What the hell are you doing?!"

"Rita," he murmurs softly, retracting his hand slowly. "Why did you come to visit? Now of all times?"

She looks hurt by his words, troubled. But she folds her arms and puts on a haughty expression to hide it.

"You told me to visit! You never said when. You should just be glad I came to talk at all."

"Yes, I should be. I know you're very busy with your research," Flynn replies, a slight accusing sting in his tone. He can't help it. He knows he's not usually this petty (unless it's about Yuri) but feeling hurt, he instinctively wanted to retaliate.

Rita's face twists again and she looks guilty. "I... I'm sorry," she whispers.

He can't hold back his surprise. "Why?" It's an honest question. He doesn't know what she's apologizing for.

"Because!" she snaps. She closes her eyes. "Because."

Flynn takes thoughtful sip of his tea, ignoring the way it burns as it slips down his throat. "Does it matter?" he asks finally.

Rita's eyes shoot open, her expression indignant. "Of course it does! You idiot! H-Here I am trying to apologize and you—" She gets up, slamming her hands on the table. "Forget it! It was a waste of time coming here-"

He catches her wrist in his hand. He loosens his grip instantly, so he's just barely hanging on. He doesn't want her to feel threatened, but the grip is just tight enough to make a point.

"Rita."

"Like you said-" Rita snarls, jerking her hand back and turning towards the door. "It doesn't matter, does it?" She turns back around and thrusts a finger at his face, expression critical, gaze caustic on him. "You should treasure that apology, Flynn Scifo, it's the last time you'll hear one from me!"

"It does matter," he says seriously. "Because you matter to me."

Her eyes widen at this and her arm falls limp by her side.

"I meant it doesn't really matter if you don't want to explain it." He turns to his bedside table and pulls the drawer open to extract his imperial uniform. "Not that it didn't matter that you apologized," he explains, glancing over his shoulder at her.

The mage stares at him blankly before she blushes. "I-I'll be outside so you can change," she stammers quickly, opening the door and slamming it shut behind her.

It's a little after dawn and the town is still asleep. It's at this time when the barely risen sun shines down through the mountains that Flynn realizes just how beautiful this world can be.

Stepping out into the cool air, he notices Rita sitting on the low fence surrounding the Aurnion HQ.

She smirks at him, green eyes skimming over his uniform before she sneers, "Don't they teach knights not to manhandle women?"

"There are dangerous female criminals out there too," Flynn replies smoothly, smiling. "And I don't believe in sexism."

"Cute," she mutters. She glances over at him again and her gaze seems to be stuck on blastia on his chest. She hops off the fence and makes her way over, eyes never leaving from his blastia. "How're you faring without your bodhi blastia to rely on in battle?"

"Not as well as you, of course," he replies.

Mages can still use artes, using mana as power instead of aer.

Rita looks at him, seemingly touched, but sad. She reaches forward and cups her hand over the blastia embedded in his uniform. Even though it no longer works, there was no reason to remove it so he kept it. She curls her fingers over the cold surface, staring at it with a strange, distant intensity.

"Rita?"

"Sorry," the mage mutters, retracting her hand and waving it, dismissing his unspoken question. "It's nothing. I was just thinking about what a waste it was to have to get rid of blastia." The look in her eyes becomes distant. "Blastia has saved so many lives."

"You're right." Flynn gestures to the sky, where the rift formally was. "But there were consequences of over-relying on blastia too."

"That doesn't change the fact that it kept us safe for so long," Rita retorts, defensive. She suddenly frowns, looking pensive.

Flynn knows she wants to say something, but he decides not to prompt her. She'll come to on her own.

"Hey," she finally says after a long moment.

The blonde knight tilts his head and looks at her to let her know he's listening.

"If there was such a thing as immortality..., do you think it would be so great?"

Flynn frowns. Why would she ask such a thing? He doesn't know what's going on in her head and that worries him, but he answers honestly.

"I think it would be painful. Life is precious, of course, and it would be wonderful to be able to continually enjoy that experience." He catches her gaze before he continues, "But being immortal means I'd have to watch everyone else I love and care about die. And I'd watch them die knowing I have no way of saving them."

"You really think so?" Rita's expression twists, tortured. "They'd eventually want to die, wouldn't they?"

Flynn nods slowly. "The immortal person would see death as a release from their curse. But again, life is precious." He closes his eyes. "Is it morally just to take someone's life, even if they desired it?"

It's a heavy rhetorical question that hangs in the air like incense.

The knight finally turns his gaze over to Rita and is taken-aback when she appears to be on the brink of tears. He knows better than to confront her over it. She's always been emotionally insecure and dislikes sharing her weaknesses with others.

"I don't know what's bothering you." He puts his hand out to her, an offer. "But please, Rita. Know that I am here if you ever need to talk."

She looks at him, something hopeful but sad there in her emerald green eyes. She bites her lip and suddenly dives forward, hugging him around the waist.

"Shut it," she orders even though he hasn't said anything.

He looks down to see the top of her pink ears, obscured behind her fiery orange-red hair. He can't help but smile, closing his eyes and hugging her back.

Rita pulls away suddenly and gives a fierce but childish glare, jabbing a finger at his face. She looks so vulnerable and embarrassed.

"Don't say a word about this to anybody, okay?"

"Not a word," he promises, biting back a wide grin.

Rita smiles ruefully, curiously. Maybe hopefully. "You're... You're not so bad, Flynn Scifo," she murmurs.

"Thank you, Miss Rita."

"Rita," she corrects automatically.

"Flynn."

The mage frowns, forehead creasing in confusion. "Sorry?"

"Just call me Flynn," he explains. "You usually call me Commandant... or my full name."

Rita cocks her head as she stares at him. She turns her back to him and stretches her arms behind her. "I guess I can afford to hang around this quaint little town for a bit longer. I'll be at the inn if you need me... Flynn."

She doesn't look back and walks away, her gait confident and unruly.

Flynn smiles to himself. He knows it'll be awhile before she tells him what's on her mind, before she can confide with him fully. But he's confident that day will come eventually.

"Hope springs eternal."


End file.
